


Discussions of Trust

by BooksBeat



Category: Marco Polo (TV)
Genre: Angst, Enemies, Gen, Past Rape/Non-con, Verbal Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-19
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:20:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24809164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BooksBeat/pseuds/BooksBeat
Summary: Marco Polo is recovering from his night with the Khan when Ahmad decides to pay him a visit. They discuss Marco's ordeal and things quickly devolve.
Relationships: Kublai Khan/Marco Polo
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Discussions of Trust

Marco winced as he raised himself up onto his elbows. It had now been several days since the Khan had officially taken him, and subsequently ended his credibility within the court. Nothing had changed in regards to his rank or his duties but he was treated as if he had the plague. 

The day previous he had entered a meeting only to be met with sniggering officials, raking their eyes up and down his form. He had shouldered on, and besides a small grimace as he took his seat, acted with complete composure. 

He could have taken the cold attitude displayed at him, and comments if he had not accidentally made eye contact with Ahmad at the meeting. The man had a dark look upon his features that betrayed his true feelings. He had a wriggling suspicion that Ahmad would not let this opportunity to mock Marco go lightly. He remembers being surprised that Ahmad had not pulled him into his office to talk after the meeting, instead of letting Marco scurry back off to his room. He knew the man was just bursting to dig into him with his razor words. 

In fact, as Marco pulled himself out of bed and staggered to his basin Ahmad sauntered into the room. Ahmad was dressed impeccably as always, long hair pulled severely into a half bun, causing his sharp eyes to resemble a hawk. Marco certainly felt like prey under them. 

“So, it seems I was correct after all” Ahmad spoke, eyes sweeping his small quarters with the disinterest of someone who would rather be anywhere else. He watched quietly as Ahmad grimaced at the shabby chair near his desk before pulling it out and sitting down upon it. Ahmad adjusted his robes about it slowly, clearly relishing Marco’s own uncomfortable stance near the basin. 

“I am surprised it took the Khan this long to sample some...European delicacy” 

Marco’s face formed a tight line, anger simmering inside as his ethnicity was thrown back in his face like an insult. “I did not choose this and I am not one of the backstreet whores that you surround yourself with.” 

“Oh, I suppose you are right. Backstreet whores charge their customers, you let the Khan have your virginity for free. How fitting that your loyalty should extend to debasing yourself on such a level.” 

“At least I have loyalty” Marco spoke back, anger seeping into his tone. 

“Loyalty is something I do not lack” Ahmad replied, “Forgive me if my type of loyalty does not extend to spreading my legs for others.” 

Marco looked away; the pain of his rape still very clear in his mind's eye. “We both know I would not willingly lay with a man.” 

Ahmad hummed at this, flicking an imaginary speck of dust off his robe. “Did it hurt when he breached you? I heard the servants speak of the amount of blood and seed they had to clean off you. Do you still feel him inside, even as we speak?” 

Marco whipped his head around to stare directly at Ahmad, anger boiling over. “I doubt it hurt as much as your eventual downfall. Traitors don’t get a very happy ending, do they?” 

This comment seemed to have touched something within Ahmad as his eyes narrowed into black slits. The man suddenly leaped from the chair and advanced onto Marco, hand gripping his neck with a ferocity he had not expected. Ahmad pushed him back until his back hit the wall and Ahmad towered over him, a picture of cold anger. 

“The difference between you and my backstreet whores, as you call them, is a very thin line,” Ahmad whispered into his ear, the grip on his neck increasing in pressure as Marco struggled for breath. “Your virgin hole was a novelty, and as soon as he grows tired of you around his fat cock, you will be lower than a dog.” Ahmad continued gripping his throat watching Marco limply struggle against him, days of bed rest having wrecked his fighting abilities. The increasing pressure from Ahmad’s long fingers wrapped over his pale neck had Marco clawing out for relief. He could not breathe and the longer Marco struggled the tighter they grew. His vision was beginning to swim, and black dots danced in front of his eyes. Just as he thought he’d die in his room; Ahmad loosened his grip. 

As if nothing had transpired, Ahmad released his neck and stepped back. Marco fell to his knees and grasped his neck sucking in much-needed air. His lungs were ablaze and tears threatened to stream down his face. For several moments all Marco could manage was ragged breaths as he regained his breath. The room was quiet except for Marco’s harsh breathing and he felt the intense stare of Ahmad upon him. Finally, as he could breathe normally again, Marco lifted his head so that his eyes met the dark cold ones of his attacker. 

“The Khan will come to know your treason and when he does, I will not beg him to show mercy.” 

Ahmad stared down coolly, and a small smile played upon his lips. “He would have to believe you first.” 

Then the official walked out, embroidered robes flowing behind him like the wind.


End file.
